RangeKids
by Rosaleen68
Summary: A set of random shorts set a few years down the line from The Ten Trials of Connie Rosolli. Not in chronological order so the kids' ages will vary. Babe.
1. RangeKids

_Disclaimer: Not mine, not making any money._

_A little short set a few years down the road in the Trialsverse. Inspired by watching my little boy and his friends building a base when I took them to the woods this afternoon. Small boys in their natural habitat are fun to watch._

* * *

Ranger sat at his desk and looked impassively at the three boys lined up in front of him. "At ease."

They shuffled uncomfortably under his gaze and did their best to stand up straight and look serious. There was a very real chance that they had finally gone too far this time.

"Do you have anything to say? Robbie? Ryan? How about you, Alex?"

All three of them looked at the floor and muttered, "No sir."

"Then I'll outline the situation as I see it, shall I? And Robbie, Ryan, you should know that your parents have agreed that I will be responsible for disciplining all three of you for this. I'll be talking to Hal and Lester later, so don't even think about lying to them about what punishment I set today."

Robbie winced and Ryan swallowed and stood a little straighter. "No sir."

"So, since no-one wants to talk, I'll start us off. Feel free to fill in any blanks for me. Over the past month, the three of you have asked Robbie's mother to take you to the woods several times for a, and I use the term loosely, 'walk'. This you did, knowing that she is heavily pregnant with Robbie's sister and would be walking a long way behind you. While you were on these 'walks' you built a base in the woods. Am I correct so far?"

The three boys nodded, looking at the floor.

"Then I'll continue. When your base was completed you staged an incident at the RangeMan building. Alex," and he glared at his own son, "asked his mother if you two could stay for a sleepover in the apartment last weekend while I was at the Boston office. While you were all there and I wasn't, you exploded a cherry bomb in the dumpster, knowing that whoever was on the building cameras would investigate. While Cal was investigating the explosion, along with every other Rangeman in the building, I might add, since you caused a major security alert, you three 'liberated' paintball guns, ammunition and a camouflage net from the basement store room. Would anyone like to tell me who managed to pick the lock, by the way?"

They shuffled their feet and didn't answer.

"You _will_ tell me how you have breaking and entering skills at age 6, 7 and 11, but for now we'll press on. The three of you then recruited someone, probably LJ, to take you back to the woods, where you used the camouflage net in your base to finish it off and concealed the paintball guns. Am I warm?"

They didn't answer.

"Then this morning, you put your plan into action. You told Tank that Robbie's mother was too tired to take you for your regular walk and asked him to take you instead. Tank, who should have known better than to trust the three of you, agreed. As soon as you were at the woods you took off ahead of him and lay in wait at your base. When Tank reached it you emerged from cover and shot him multiple times with the paintball guns. Do any of you have anything to say?"

"Sorry?" ventured Alex. Robbie and Ryan echoed him. "Sorry. We're really sorry."

"Tank is currently covered from head to foot in yellow paint and will be in pain from the bruising for a week. Do you have any idea how much paintballs hurt? If you hit him in the face he could have lost an eye."

They looked stricken.

"The three of you are grounded for the next month, and you will be reporting to Tank for the next four weekends to work in his yard and do any other jobs that he can think of, the harder and dirtier the better. You will be polite, respectful and show appropriate remorse. Do you understand?"

They nodded frantically.

"Dismissed."

Alex, Robbie and Ryan sprinted for the door before he could think up anything worse for them.

Ranger waited until the door closed. "Did you get all of that?"

Tank's voice emerged from the intercom. "Loud and clear. I'm on my way round."

He walked in a few seconds later and sat down stiffly on the couch under the window. "Sneaky little bastards. We have to start channelling their instincts while we still have a building."

Ranger nodded. "That plan was perfectly designed and executed. There's no way I could tell them, but I was impressed. I still want to know how they broke into the basement store, though."

"Someone's been teaching them B and E. I'll find out who and make sure they know what kind of hellspawn they're dealing with. We can't have them breaking into the gun range at will."

"It's way too late to put that genie back in the bottle. I'm thinking of bringing them on the next training day; maybe taking a few paintball hits themselves will educate them."

"Training up the next generation of Rangemen early?"

"It looks like I'm starting a family business."


	2. The Thunderstorm

_Disclaimer: Not mine, not making any money. I'm just playing._

_Another little RangeKids short that popped into my head. I was blown away by how much people liked the first one so I guess this is now a series. I should warn you that these aren't in chronological order, they're just a series of shorts written as they occur to me, so the ages of the kids will vary. A lot will be in response to challenges on Perfectly Plum, like this one. The whole series is set sometime after the Ten Trials of Connie Rosolli._

It was a dark and stormy night. Ranger watched the sky light up outside as rain battered ceaselessly at the bedroom window. The sky had been rumbling ominously for the past hour, and he was quietly waiting for the inevitable.

His wife breathed softly next to him, her body pressed firmly into his side with her head tucked into his shoulder and one leg thrown over him, the same as always. He stared out of the window, for once not wanting to look at her. Each flash of lightning would illuminate the livid bruise that decorated her right cheekbone, and he knew that if he saw it once more he'd want to cross a line that he shouldn't cross. Couldn't cross. He had too much to lose now.

It would have to be enough to know that Barry Jacobs was going to find jail very, very uncomfortable for a while. He'd made sure of it. And when Barry got out, he was going to wish that he was still inside. It was time for him to find out that certain women were to be treated with respect, even if they were there to escort you back to jail.

The sky lit up again as he watched, and almost simultaneously, thunder cracked viciously overhead. He sighed and prepared himself for company. That last one would definitely do it.

Right on cue, running footsteps thumped down the hallway and a four year old figure in Spongebob Squarepants pajamas appeared in the doorway. A small voice whispered, "Mommy?"

Ranger half smiled at the slight tremor in the voice. "Shhh, Mommy's asleep," he whispered back. "Come round this side."

Alex tiptoed over to stand beside the bed. "I can't sleep."

"Storm keeping you awake?"

The little boy nodded solemnly.

Ranger reluctantly pulled himself out of his wife's embrace and left the warm cocoon they had made together under the quilt. He swung Alex up into his arms and felt two smaller arms lock around his neck in a death-grip as his son burrowed into his shoulder. He could feel him shivering slightly. "Let's go, tiger. Back to bed."

He padded round to the smaller bedroom that had once been his seventh floor office. Now Tigger bounced happily across one wall while Winnie the Pooh investigated the contents of a honey jar and Eeyore sulked over by the door. A small mountain of toy cars protruded from the top of a toy chest in the corner.

He flipped the light on and made a point of looking down before crossing the floor to the small bed. He'd discovered the hard way that toy cars hurt like a son-of-a-bitch when you find them with your feet in the dark. He'd hopped around the floor exercising every ounce of his legendary self-control to avoid expanding Alex's vocabulary with some new and interesting words. Stephanie had already warned the men about the consequences of her son repeating any of their more colorful phrases at daycare, and half of them were now scared to talk to him at all, just in case he could pick up swearwords by some kind of mental osmosis. It had certainly cleaned up the language in the control room for the afternoon shift, since Alex liked to watch the monitors sometimes and pretend he was one of the team. That wasn't quite an even trade for the changes in staff gun policy he'd had to make, but it was something.

He settled Alex down into bed and drew the brightly colored quilt up to his chin. The damn thing gave him a headache every time he looked at it but Stephanie had insisted, the same way that she had insisted on the wall mural and all the other brightly colored evidence of childhood that had gradually crept into the apartment. "Time to go to sleep now. I'll be here with you."

More thunder growled outside and a gust of wind drove the rain against the window in a staccato clatter. Ranger cursed internally. Like sleep was going to happen any time soon after that.

Alex peered anxiously at him over the top of his quilt. "I'm still scared."

"I know, son, but you have to try. I'm right here."

"Aren't you scared?"

"No."

"Why aren't you scared?"

Ranger sighed. Stephanie had warned him about the dangers of being pulled into a conversation. It was a classic Alex bedtime tactic, and he wasn't trained or equipped to play mind games with small children. She was the one with the serious skills. He'd be calling her in for reinforcements right now if that bastard hadn't tried to beat the crap out of her today. As things stood, though, he was going to have to tough this one out on his own. He fleetingly considered calling Ella, but then decided that the shit he'd get from Tank if he ever found out wasn't worth the risk. Time to suck it up and deal.

"It's just noise. It's nothing to be scared of."

"Aren't you scared of anything?"

"Some things." Mostly about things that might happen to Alex or his mother, but neither of them would ever know that if he could help it. "Maybe tigers. Tigers are scary. But we don't have tigers in America except in the zoo, so you're safe. Go to sleep."

"People say you're scary. Jack's daddy does."

"Who's Jack?"

"My friend at daycare."

Did he know Jack's father? He'd have to find out.

"Why are people scared of you?" Alex went on.

_That's it, son, go for the jugular. You couldn't talk about what you had for breakfast instead?_ "Because sometimes I want them to be, so that bad people will do what I say."

"Will I be scary one day?"

_Good question, son. _Really_ good question. Do I want you to be like me? A killer? _"Do you want to be?"

"Maybe when I'm scary I won't be scared of stuff."

"So if you were scary, you wouldn't be afraid of the thunder?"

"I don't think so."

Ranger took a deep breath. Stephanie was going to kill him if she ever found out what he was about to do, but if she got some sleep it would be worth it. "Then we'll make you scary. Sit up. I'm going to teach you The Look. You can never, ever tell Mommy I did this. Promise?"

"Promise." Alex sat up in bed eagerly.

Ranger wrapped the migraine-inducing quilt around him to keep him warm and sat on the floor in the middle of the room. "Now imagine that I'm somebody you don't like and look at me. Now pretend you can see right through my head and look at Tigger on the wall behind me. Don't smile, just stare at Tigger."

Alex screwed up his face with intense concentration as he focused a four-year-old's glare on the unfortunate cartoon character. His nose creased as he squeezed his eyes halfway shut and pushed his bottom lip out. He looked more near-sighted than scary, but that didn't matter.

"Good stare," Ranger pronounced. "Very scary. I think the thunder will be scared of you now. Time to sleep." He got up from the floor and crawled over to the bed to tuck him back in before starting for the door.

He was just reaching for the light when Alex whispered, "I'm still a bit scared. Just a bit."

Enough. Time to concede defeat. Small boy 1, scary mercenary 0. He scooped him up again and headed back to his own bedroom and his sleeping wife. "This is just for tonight. And if you wake Mommy up you're back in your own bed, thunder or no thunder. There will be no flailing, no kicking, and no pulling my hair. If you do I'll cut it all off and then you'll be in really big trouble with Mommy. Do you promise to keep still?"

"I promise. Can I have more scary lessons?"

"If you don't tell Mommy. Ever."


	3. The Soccer Game

_Disclaimer: Not mine, not making any money. I'm just playing._

_This is very much a follow on from events in chapter eight of the Ten Trials of Connie Rosolli (Shameless touting of my other stories). Don't expect to see the main characters in this one._

The Soccer Game

Lester flicked a sideways glance toward his silent youngest son as they drove to the park. "You okay?"

"Yeah."

"Looking forward to it?"

"Yeah."

"Sure you've got all your stuff?"

"Yeah."

"Know any other words?"

Ryan didn't answer, and looked out of the window of the Corvette at the houses passing by.

Lester tried again. "How's your mom?"

"Okay."

"School?"

"Okay."

Lester carried on driving and wondered what the hell else he could say. "Cool car, right?"

"S'okay."

"It's a chick magnet."

Ryan shrugged and stared hard at the lines in the middle of the road as they were steadily swallowed up by the car.

"Maybe you're not old enough for that yet. How old are you again?"

"Ten."

"I had my first girlfriend by then."

Ryan just shrugged again.

Lester gave up and just drove.

_o0o o0o o0o_

Ryan sat up and started looking around intently as soon as they pulled into the park.

"You see them?" Lester asked.

Ryan kept scanning. "Over there!" he said urgently, and pointed to a small group of people near the middle of the field.

Lester followed his gaze and parked the Corvette in the nearest parking space to them.

Ryan was out of the door and gone almost before the car had stopped, leaving the door open and his overnight bag forgotten in the footwell.

"Slow down kid," Lester said to the empty air in the passenger seat. He leaned over to grab the bag and followed in Ryan's wake.

Ryan was already on the grass and accelerating towards a big man and two younger children kicking a ball between each other. "Uncle Hal!" he yelled. "Pass it! Look what I can do!"

Hal kicked the ball toward him.

Lester stopped by a cluster of bags and folding chairs and watched as Ryan trapped the pass effortlessly and dribbled the ball back toward the group with his feet. When he was close enough he tapped it neatly to one of the other boys. "Robbie!"

Robbie stumbled a little as he tried to trap the ball like Ryan, but he managed. He executed a clumsy pass to the other boy, who did a little better. Ryan was definitely the star of the show, and Lester felt an odd tightness at the top of his chest.

"Ryan!" he called, and held the bag up in the air.

"You're wasting your time now he's got a ball," a female voice said behind him.

He spun around. "Connie? What are you doing here?"

Connie settled her considerable bulk into a canvas chair and sighed as she kicked the flat mules off her feet and wiggled her toes. "Cabin fever. I needed to see the sun. I wish this kid would hurry up and make an appearance." She folded her hands across her swollen belly and closed her eyes as she lifted her face up to the sun. "God that feels good. Thanks for picking Ryan up for me, by the way. Robbie's been asking for days if he could come too."

"No problem. Can I give you this? I have to get going." He held out the overnight bag to her.

She ignored it. "Steph just dropped Alex off ten minutes ago. It's going to be quite a weekend having the three musketeers all together." She watched the boys playing with Hal, still ignoring Lester's outstretched hand with the bag. "What do you think of Ryan? He's good, isn't he?"

"Yeah, he is." Lester watched his son as he chased after a poorly aimed pass from Alex and stopped the ball with his feet.

"He's far and away the best one at soccer training. They say he's a natural."

"What?" he said, without taking his eyes off his son.

"Didn't you know they've all been going soccer training this year?"

There was an odd note in her voice, and he turned to see her looking at him with sympathy written across her face.

"Of course I did," he lied.

"It's not too late you know."

He shook his head. "Chantal's mother moved to another state, LJ's doing his own thing, Ryan barely talked to me today. I'm just not fatherhood material." He dropped Ryan's bag next to her chair. "I have to go."

"Date?"

He nodded as his cellphone rang in his pocket. "That's probably her now." He answered the call. "Hey baby. I'll be with you in half an hour."

Connie fixed her eyes on him. "Lester, honey, I think my waters just broke. I need to go the hospital now," she said in a loud voice.

"What?" he mouthed at her. The voice on the other end of the phone demanded to know who was speaking to him. "No, baby, it's nobody. Just someone playing a joke."

"Lester!" Connie yelled, "Now!"

"No, really, I swear, baby–"

The dial tone hummed at him in response. He sighed and put the phone away. "I can't wait to hear why you did that."

"Oh, I'm sorry. We pregnant women do crazy things; you must know that. It could be worse. I could be eating coal."

"At least if you were chewing coal I'd still have a date."

"Yeah, shame, sorry about that." She didn't sound remotely sorry. "So, I guess you have no plans for the afternoon now."

"Not any more. Thanks to you."

"Only, Hal looks ready to drop. They're running rings around him. What he needs is another man out there to take the strain."

"I've never played soccer in my life."

"It's easy. Don't touch the ball with your hands or arms. Anything else goes."

"I don't see you out there."

"Nope, you don't. There's got to be one good thing about impersonating a beached whale. Now go help my husband."

_o0o o0o o0o_

Lester walked out slowly towards the boys.

Hal spotted him and grinned. "Reinforcements." He kicked the soccer ball to Ryan. "Kick it to your dad."

Ryan nodded dubiously and kicked it hard toward Lester.

Before he could stop himself, Lester reached out and snagged the ball from the air with his hands.

"No, this is soccer!" Robbie yelled. "You can't grab it. Kick it."

"Sorry." He dropped the ball to the ground and kicked it gently to Alex.

Alex passed it to Robbie, who kicked it clumsily back to Lester. They carried on passing it around while Lester tried to get the hang of just using his feet.

Robbie kicked the ball toward Lester again. This time it rolled along the ground, and he trapped it with his feet the way Ryan had.

"Pass it to Ryan!" Hal called.

He nodded and kicked. He hit it a little harder than planned and his stomach lurched in horror as the ball rose from the ground and flew towards his son's head. "Ryan! Look out!"

Ryan spotted it, gritted his teeth and met it full on, butting it hard with his head and knocking it down to the ground where he trapped it with his feet and passed it to Hal. He whooped and jumped in the air. "Did you see that? Did you?"

"Excellent!" Hal held his hand out and let Ryan slap it in a gleeful high five.

"What just happened?" Lester asked.

"He's been trying to head the ball for weeks but he was too scared," Hal answered, scruffing the boy's hair. "Great job, Ryan. Just wait till the coach hears about it."

"My dad helped me." Ryan shot Lester a glowing grin, and Lester thought that maybe he still had a chance after all.


	4. Secrets

_Disclaimer: Not mine, not making any money. I'm just playing._

Secrets

I was in trouble and I knew it.

From the look of triumph on his ratty little face, Benny the Shark knew it too. "Times are hard, Cap. I wish I could do more for you, but that's all I can offer. You can walk away if you want. No hard feelings."

Bastard. He knew damn well I couldn't walk away. The car was so damned hot it was smoking, and Mikey had skipped out when Trenton PD got too close for comfort. Leaving me fucked up the ass with one stolen-to-order Ferrari and no buyer, and no way to pay Harry the Hammer the ten g's I owed him. He was already looking for me, and going into the pen before I paid up would be suicide.

I'd already skipped my court date for this one last job**; **that should have netted me what I needed and then some. Instead I was four days past my court date with two choices. Let Benny have the car for a couple of g's and pray that Harry was in a good mood or get in the damn car and drive it into the Delaware. Harry would probably pull my corpse out of the river just so he could cut my nuts off anyway. He was like that. Days like this I wished I'd gone for a career flipping burgers in Mickey D's.

"I'll take it. You gouging son of a bitch."

Benny grinned as he counted the bills off the roll in his pocket. "Always a pleasure doing business with you."

"Yeah right," I said sourly. "You can take your cock out of my ass now."

He clapped his hand over his heart. Well, over the part of his chest where it would have been if he had a heart, anyway. "You wound me, man. I just did you a big favor."

"Any more favors like that and I might as well just go to the big house and get a shower first."

"Love you too, man, love you too. Have a nice day."

I flipped him the bird and stalked out of his gloomy little back street chop shop into the sticky afternoon heat. Straight away sweat broke out down my back and my nylon shirt glued itself to me like Saran wrap. I wasn't sure how much of the sweat was down to the humid air and how much was the fear of losing two things that were very close to my heart, not to mention close to my cock. I needed more money fast, and I had no idea how to get it.

My mind was full of get-rich-quick schemes as I walked slowly down the sidewalk. I couldn't think of a single one that would net me eight g's before Harry's boys or the bounty hunters caught up with me. It didn't even matter which one caught me first. All roads lead to Harry the Hammer if he wants to talk to you. Not for the first time, I regretted the day I ever came up with the idea of getting a loan from Harry to finance some schoolyard dope peddling. Easy money, my ass.

A screech of brakes and the honk of a car horn snapped me out of my funk. I looked up and saw a black SUV stopped a foot away from me where I had walked out across the intersection without looking. The driver, some curly-haired chick, was waving her hands at me from the driver's seat while a kid in a car seat looked on.

I stood where I was, ignoring the sound of horns from the cars waiting behind her, and extended a middle finger for her benefit. "Fuck off, chickie."

I waited another thirty seconds just to make my point and make sure that the lights were good and red again before moving. I watched her fume in the air-conditioned comfort of her mom-mobile while the kid extended his own middle finger and examined it with interest. Finally the lights turned to red again and I gave her a little finger wave before carrying on across the intersection and joining the sidewalk on the other side.

I forgot the encounter almost straight away. I had other fish to fry without worrying about mommies driving cars that made up for them not having dicks. I needed fast, easy money.

I must have made it about ten yards when I heard my name. "Kirk Sorenson, you are in violation of your bail bond…"

Hell if I knew why a woman was saying it, and at that moment it didn't matter. The words went straight to my feet without bothering my brain and I was off and running.

I reached the nearest alley, and I swear I left half the tread of my sneakers on the sidewalk as I cornered without slowing down. I knocked over a couple of garbage cans as I clattered right through them and launched at a wire fence. The sound of a car engine reverberated down the alley behind me and I knew I only had seconds before she reached me. The urgency made me clumsy; I scrabbled and fumbled, trying to get over the fence and failing miserably.

A hand grabbed my ankle and yanked me back when I was still halfway up. I tried to hang on, but it was no good. I lost my toehold and crashed back to the ground with an impact that stung my ankles.

"You fucking bitch." I swung at her, but she ducked it like I wasn't there before coming at me. She was all over me like a rash, punching and jabbing at me. She didn't have any weight, but man, she hurt. She hooked a foot around my ankle and swept it away, and I went over backwards. The pain of my head banging the ground almost made me miss the shock of the foul-smelling puddle of greasy water that it dipped into. Almost.

She followed me down, put a knee against my two best friends and grabbed a handful of my hair. Why did everybody want to threaten my nuts today?

Then she was banging my head into the foul-smelling puddle again and again as she yelled at me.

_Bang_. "That's for flipping me off at the intersection."

_Bang_. "That's for making me run through a pile of garbage to get to you."

_Bang_. "That's for swearing at me in front of my," _bang,_ "son."

_Bang._ "And that's for teaching my," _bang,_ "son to," _bang,_ "flip the bird at the age of," _bang,_ "three."

I never apologize to women. Never. Bitches, all of them. But I would have made an exception for this one just to make her stop banging my head on the floor. I opened my mouth to try, but before I could manage anything but a groan I heard a sizzle and everything went dark.

_o0o_ _o0o o0o_

I woke up with the hangover from hell. I swear there were a thousand tiny men in my head with rock drills, trying to get out. A string of drool hung from my lips and there was a real good chance I was going to barf.

The only good thing was the wonderful, cool air that was stroking my face and drying my sodden, foul smelling shirt. Air-conditioning. I could hear an engine and feel vibrations through my ass where it sat on a cushioned seat. I was in a car.

I cracked my eyes open and quickly squeezed them shut again as the sunlight hit me like an ice pick to the brain.

"Are you a bad man?" a childish voice asked from somewhere in front of me.

I would have put my hands over my face to let the light in slowly, but they weren't going anywhere. It looked like the mom from hell had restraints with her as well as a stun gun. I ask you, what kind of mother carries a stun gun and restraints? Like my day wasn't bad enough already.

I opened my eyes again and whimpered slightly as they adjusted to the light. My head was killing me. If Harry found me now, I'd probably beg him for a quick death and be done with it.

The world gradually swam into focus. A little kid was turned round in his car seat watching me. Enjoying the show of Cap Kirk suffering blinding torment courtesy of his mother. He had a thick mop of dark curly hair and skin the colour of milky coffee.

"I think you're a bad man."

The sound of even his little kiddie voice was drilling into my skull and causing me agonies. I waited for his mother to shut him up. She just kept on driving. Bitch.

"You're lucky."

"Why?" I croaked. I didn't feel lucky.

"You're lucky Mommy found you and not Daddy."

"Who's your daddy?" I couldn't help it. I wanted to know.

"That's enough." His mother stepped in. Finally. "We don't talk to bad men, remember? You shouldn't even be here."

"Sorry, Mommy."

The mom from hell pulled into the car park at the cop station and stopped the car. She got out, took the kid with her and left me restrained in the car. With the air conditioning off, I slowly started to melt as the sun blazed on the black SUV. My shirt started to stick to me again and my stomach roiled.

Finally she came back with a couple of cops who hauled me out and dragged me into the station. She followed them in with her kid sitting on her hip. Oh well, here we go. Go directly to jail. Do not pass Go. Do not collect 200. Bye bye nuts, hello Harry the Hammer and eunuch-hood. Life's a bitch and so are female bounty hunters. Why the hell did I have to attract her attention? Why didn't I keep walking at the intersection, or better yet, just let her run me over and put me out of my misery.

One of the cops at the desk filled out her body receipt while she pointed out stuff on the posters to her kid and told him the words. I didn't quite believe it. She was signing my death warrant and she was teaching him to read while she did it?

"Hey Steph," the cop said. "He one of yours?"

"No. Ranger's."

The cop grinned. "He's going to love that."

"Just do me a favor and don't mention this one being here?" She bounced the toddler on her hip as she spoke.

"No problem."

"Thanks, Eddie." She smiled a brilliant smile that would have snagged any man that wasn't recovering from concussion and stun-gunning while watching his life circle the toilet bowl.

I sagged against the bench and tried not to lose my lunch as I watched the bounty hunter from hell and her spawn walking away toward the door and the freedom I'd just lost.

"Now remember," she said just before they went out through the automatic doors, "Daddy doesn't need to know about you meeting the bad man. It'll be our secret."

And it would be. Absolutely. There was no way in hell that Ranger would ever find from me that I met his son. For people like me, that sort of thing was hazardous to your health. Maybe even more so than owing money to Harry the Hammer.


	5. The Runaway

_Disclaimer: Not mine, not making any money. I'm just playing._

_It's a RangeKids story._

The Runaway

_A telephone conversation_

Steph: You know, you can't stay away forever.

Alex: I'm never coming home again.

Steph: What exactly do you think is going to happen to you?

Alex: I don't want to find out. I've seen the guys' faces when they think they're in trouble. Even Tank gets nervous. When Vince spilled coffee on the monitors and blew them up he nearly shit himself.

Steph: Alex!

Alex: Sorry Mom. But it's true. I heard him talking to Zero about it in the gym.

Steph: I don't believe this.

Alex: …

Steph: In the last eighteen years, has your father ever laid a hand on you?

Alex: Do we count when I jumped on his back and surprised him?

Steph: No. And frankly being hung up by your ankles for two minutes was less than I would have done to you for that. Your father doesn't like surprises.

Alex: Which is why I'm going to stay here and live with Robbie's mom.

Steph: Sweetie, you can't stay there forever.

Alex: Why not?

Steph: Just because. You belong here. Come on home, I swear nothing is going to happen to you.

Alex: …

Steph: Alex?

Alex: I might not have told you the whole truth.

Steph: What?

Alex: Well… you know I borrowed the Porsche…

Steph: Yes?

Alex: And you know I dented the bumper…

Steph: Yes. And?

Alex: Well… the thing is… I might have been driving past Uncle Joe's house at the time. And I might have knocked over Uncle Joe's garbage cans.

Steph: Oh my God.

Alex: And Uncle Joe might have caught me.

Steph: Oh. My. God.

Alex: And when Uncle Joe tells Dad I knocked his garbage cans over with Dad's Porsche, I think that staying with Robbie's mom might be a good idea.

Steph: …

Alex: Because you know how Dad gets really intense about looking bad in front of Uncle Joe.

Steph: Jesus...

Alex: I'm sorry, Mom.

Steph: You'd better be. Okay, here's what we're going to do. I'm going to take you to see Joe. You're going to apologise and offer to do yard work for him for a month. Then you're going to do chores for Al for as long as it takes for you to pay for the work to the Porsche.

Alex: What about Dad?

Steph: I hear Liberia is nice this time of year.

Alex: Mom!

Steph: Okay, I'll fix it, but you'll need to stay out of the way. I'll need to pull out the heavy artillery for this one.

Alex: Mom?

Steph: …

Alex: What are you going to do?

Steph: Never mind. One day your wife will explain. Just stay at Connie's until Sunday. And for the love of God could you stay out of trouble for a while after this? Put Connie on.

Alex: Okay. Thanks Mom.

Steph: Love you sweetie.

Alex: Mom!

Steph: Don't worry, I won't make you say it back in front of people. Just put Connie on.

Alex: Okay.

Connie: Steph?

Steph: Can he stay until Sunday?

Connie: Of course he can. Is everything going to be okay?

Steph: It's fine. Nothing lingerie won't fix.

Connie: Ohhh. Right.

Steph: Yeah.

Connie: I'll want details. Consider it the price for hiding your son while you soften him up.

Steph: Hey! That's taking advantage.

Connie: What are friends for?


	6. The Heatwave

_Disclaimer: Not mine, not making any money. I'm just playing._

The Heatwave

_(A loose follow up to The Thunderstorm)_

It was hot. So hot that three of my class were in the sick room with the nurse waiting for their parents to come and get them. I wished someone would come and get me, but I had to stay here for another hour and try to crowbar more knowledge into unwilling minds.

Frankly, it was pointless. The sun was blazing outside, and there wasn't a single mind in the room that could concentrate on simultaneous equations for more than a minute, including mine.

Mine kept parading pictures of mojitos in front of me. I could almost see the beads of condensation on the outside of the chilled glass. Occasionally one broke and trickled down the side, picking up its companions on the way to form a tiny, lazy runnel of cool water. I could almost taste the mint. I wanted that mojito, badly. It was mine. I needed it.

A solitary fly buzzed at the high windows, trying to find a way out of the stifling room. Like I wanted to.

Instead, I scanned the rows of children in front of me where they pretended to be working out the solution to the problem. At least, some of them were pretending. Three of the girls were passing notes at the back of the class instead and giggling silently. Louise Mason was texting underneath the desk, if her continual hand movements were any indication. Danny Harris was watching the fly's tortured attempts at escape, probably dreaming of escape himself.

Peter Ragucci, on the other hand, was busy making spitballs underneath his exercise book where he thought I couldn't see.

Damn Peter Ragucci. A bully in the classic mould. The last time I sent him to the Principal's office, for giving Randy Haynes an Indian burn that made the poor kid cry for ten minutes straight, I'd found my car scratched right down the side the next day.

Staffroom gossip had it that his father had cornered Peter's last teacher and said something to her. She'd been off sick with stress for a month and quit at the end of the term. She never told anybody what he said to her. Enter the unsuspecting supply teacher. Now Peter was my problem instead.

Deep down I knew that if I gave in and let Peter do what he wanted, it could only get worse. I knew that, but it was hot and I was tired and I really couldn't afford to send my car to the shop again when the inevitable revenge followed.

There's a Jesuit quote – Give me the child till the age of seven and I will show you the man. Well Peter's dad had had him for fourteen years, and I hoped to God that that quote only applied to Jesuits, because otherwise Peter the Man was probably going to jail in a few years.

I stared at Peter until I caught his eye. I looked down at his collection of spitballs and up again, and raised my eyebrows. The cocky little bastard just met my stare and gave it straight back to me before putting another piece of paper in his mouth. If he was a dog he would have just lifted his leg and pissed all over me.

I had no choice. I had to do something, whether I wanted to or not. I promised myself a half-dozen mojitos if I could just make myself do something. The sticky afternoon heat and depression at the situation made my limbs feel like lead as I stood up. "Peter."

He ignored me.

"Peter!"

He produced a straw and fired his first spitball at Randy in the next row. Randy jumped as it hit his neck and hunched down in his seat. He didn't even dare to look round. He knew who it was. Randy was Peter's first choice of whipping boy, every time.

"Peter! Stop that right now!"

Peter fired another spitball. This time it hit Randy on the ear. He scrubbed at it, and his lips quivered as he fought back the tears. He knew that crying would be the equivalent of blood in the water.

"Peter! Stop that now and go to the Principal's office."

Peter produced another spitball instead, and it became terribly clear to me that this time, the blood in the water was mine. I had lost control.

Keeping his eyes fixed on me, Peter fired the spitball in Randy's direction. Only, because he was looking at me instead of his target, he missed. The spitball went over Randy's shoulder and hit Alex Manoso on the cheek instead.

The room went still. In the sudden silence I could hear the fly buzzing at the window. The buzzing was punctuated with little taps as it hurled itself against the glass again and again, desperate to find a way out to the open air.

I didn't know Alex very well. He was a quiet, good-natured boy, who was never late or difficult. I'm ashamed to admit that I knew the difficult ones much better. Alex just came to class and got on with his work. He was a good-looking lad, but somehow the girls never seemed to giggle and flirt with him the way they did with some of the other boys. Instead they seemed to reserve a wide-eyed silence for him.

I found out why. Alex turned to face Peter and looked at him. Peter went white, throwing the freckles on his face into sharp relief. I'd never seen anyone create fear like that with just a look. It was dead eyed and empty, and it seemed to promise untold horrors if the owner chose to bestow them. If someone looked at me like that I would probably wet my pants.

My mouth went dry and I swallowed hard. "Peter, go to the Principal's office, now."

Peter nodded dumbly and went.

As the door closed behind him, the class heaved a collective sigh of relief, and the constant hum of a room full of teenagers started again.

I looked at Alex where he had returned to the math problem that the class was supposed to be solving, just a normal boy again. In fact a better behaved one than most. I didn't know what to do. Could just looking at someone be considered to be bullying or a threat? Neither of them had said a word. Should I be attempting to discipline this silently terrifying child?

I didn't. At the end of the day, I'm just a supply teacher. A supply teacher that needs a drink.


	7. The Wake Up Call

_Disclaimer: Not mine, not making any money. I'm just playing._

The Wake-Up Call

A tentative knock at the door pulled Tank's attention up and away from next week's duty roster.

"In."

Alex walked in and stopped in front of him, uncertainty written across his teenage face. "Have you got a minute?"

"It depends. Are you going to shoot me with paintballs?"

Alex smiled at the familiar reminder, and relaxed. "No."

"Then I'm all yours. What's up kid?"

"I just…" He hesitated then went on in a rush, "I need someone to talk to. About guy stuff."

"Can't your dad help?"

All the expression disappeared from Alex's face, and suddenly a miniature Ranger was walking away from him and reaching for the door. "It doesn't matter."

Tank cursed silently. "Wait. It's okay, kid. We can talk, no problem. You want to go someplace else?"

The boy's shoulders relaxed and he was Alex again. "Yeah, that would be good."

Tank got up and walked round his desk. "Let's go sit on the roof. We'll swing by the break room and grab some drinks to take with us."

The flat roof was hot in the summer sun despite the breeze. Faint traffic sounds came up from the street below; the hum of engines, the occasional screech of car brakes, the louder sound of car horns.

Tank lifted his can of soda and saluted the sky. "Gotta love those Trenton drivers. You like the driving?"

"Yeah, it's good, except being banned from driving the Porsche."

"Well, you did crash it into Morelli's garbage cans the first time you drove it," Tank pointed out. "And when your dad said you could borrow a car, I'm pretty sure he didn't mean the Porsche. How long were you grounded?"

Alex winced. "A month. Mom says I got off lightly."

Tank nodded sagely. "Yep. You did." He took a pull at his soda. "So come on, kid. What's eating you?"

"I met a girl."

Tank grinned and tapped his can against Alex's. "Congratulations. She cute?"

"Yeah. She's real pretty. But it all went wrong."

"Go on."

"Last week this girl, Cara, came up to me in the cafeteria and asked me to go to a party with her. All her friends were watching, but I though that was just what girls did, so I said yes."

"And?"

"We went to the party, and there was a lot of beer there. You won't tell Mom, will you?"

"I promise."

"Anyway, it was good. There were lots of people there from school that don't normally talk to me, and it was fun. I just had a couple of beers, 'cause Dad's always talking about staying in control and being aware of your surroundings, so I swear I wasn't drunk or anything–"

Tank had a feeling that he knew where this was going. "But–"

"–but it all got stupid anyway. Some of the other guys were drinking a whole lot of beer, and they got real loud and rough and started shoving people around, and then they shoved me."

"And what did you do?"

"What we do." Alex's voice was intense and angry. "What you do. What Dad does. What Uncle Hal does. The only thing I know to do."

"Which is what?"

"I dropped him, hard and fast. Put my knee in his back, twisted his arm and immobilised him."

Tank sighed. "Let me guess. It didn't go down well."

Alex's voice choked. "He screamed like a little kid and threw up. I really hurt him, Tank. I didn't mean to."

"Alex–"

"And you know what the worst part was?" he went on bitterly. "Cara loved it. She got all excited, said watching it got her really hot. She wanted to start another fight so that she could watch me hurt some more people." The boy scrubbed a tear away from his eye, fighting for control. "Am I a monster, Tank?"

"Jesus, Alex."

"Tell me." he insisted. "What am I? The other kids at school aren't like me. Their dads work in offices or on construction sites. They have beer bellies, and grill on Sundays, and do stupid stuff that their kids are embarrassed about. I live in a building with a bunch of security experts that taught me how to take a man down and how to pick locks. I could open the store-room before I could tie my shoelaces properly. I'm like you, and now the kids at school are either terrified of me or want me to hurt people so they can get off. I don't know what to do."

Tank took a deep breath. "I need you to stop, Alex. Stop and listen to me. You listening?"

The boy nodded, his jaw set.

"Okay. I'm sorry, Alex. I really am. For what's happened to you. Nobody ever meant for this to happen. The guys in this building have known you since you were a tiny kid, and you grew up around some real scary shit." He winced. "Don't tell your mom I used that word, okay?"

"I promise."

"Thanks. Now the first fact is, life is dangerous. Bad shit happens to good people every day, but a lot of folks don't want to see it and don't want to know about it. Ever since the world began it's been that way. People only let themselves know what they can handle and they pretend the rest ain't happening. But with what we do, we see the bad stuff. No hiding, we know it happens. Understand?"

"I guess."

"Now, the next fact is, a lot of men in this place don't have kids of their own. All we have is you and Robbie, and you two are the closest thing we've got to sons of our own. We don't ever want to see that bad shit happen to you. So, we did what we could to prevent it. We never had a plan, just, all the people that love you gave whatever we had to give. The next thing to know after that is that, right now, you're a teenager. Didn't you learn about hormones and shit at school?"

"Yeah. Some."

"So you should know that teenagers do all sorts of crazy shit 'cause of all the damn hormones. You fight, you show off, you do stupid stuff to look good in front of girls and other guys. We all did. Your dad was worse than most, but you never heard that from me, right?"

"Really?" Alex regarded him with wide eyes.

"Really. So you did something stupid; it happens. So you picked a girl who liked bad-asses; that happens too. All the fucking time. It's something most of the guys here have to deal with. A lot of women are scared of us. A lot more get off on the danger and the bad boy shit. There's always been women like that, but if they can't see through it to you, they ain't worth your time."

"So what do I do?"

"You hang in there and wait for the women that ain't either of those two things. See the other kind if you want to, but don't get involved, not until you know that they ain't a bad-boy groupie. You might have to wait a long time, but they're out there. Oh and Alex?"

"Yeah."

"I know you don't call me Uncle Tank no more, but I'm still proud of you." He counted off on his fingers. "One, you made your first take-down. Two, you didn't whale on him, just did what you had to do. Three, you didn't do it to impress some airhead. And four, you know that it ain't right to hurt somebody just 'cause you can. So tell me what you got to be worried about?"

"Really? I did okay?"

Tank tried not to smile at the dawning hope on the boy's face. "You did okay."


	8. Priorities

_Disclaimer: Not mine, not making any money. I'm just playing with the minor characters. _

_Time for another RangeKid to make her first appearance in the series. I lent my copy of TTN to someone, so please forgive any timeline mistakes._

Priorities

The sound of static pulled Bobby out of a deep sleep and a half-remembered dream of searching for something important.

He'd looked and looked until he came to the ocean, and there was nowhere else to look, just the constant sound of waves shifting the pebbles on the stony beach. They'd clattered together in a chilly chorus of loss and emptiness as he looked out to sea in the hope of finding somewhere, anywhere, left to look.

A fitful breeze made the curtains at the window flutter and raised goose-bumps on his exposed skin. He twitched and shivered into awareness and groaned as he realized that he was alone in bed and the covers were missing. The desolate sound of the pebbled beach was static coming from the radio alarm, and he flailed at it until he hit the right button and silenced it. Angel must have been playing with it; he'd have to retune it later.

He rolled over into the cold, empty half of the bed and carried on up onto his feet. Yawning his way out into the hall he called, "Kell? Where are you?"

He poked his head into his daughter's bedroom. Angel was still asleep, hands flung carelessly over her head, her hair a mass of dark curls that he knew Kelly wanted to braid. One day, but not yet. Sam the beanbag dog was working his way down through the bars. He retrieved it and tucked in next to her again where she'd find it when she woke up.

He walked to the kitchen, wondering where the hell Kelly was. She hated getting up early. Usually he had to push her out of her nest of blankets, complaining all the way. He never woke alone; if Angel had a difficult night he was more likely to find them both in bed with him than Kelly up on her own.

"Kell?"

The coffee pot was empty, and the bowl of cornmeal porridge was still in the refrigerator waiting to be warmed for breakfast. Kelly's solution to the getting up early problem; cook breakfast the night before and have it waiting. He wasn't sure he'd ever get used to the stuff, but Kelly refused to eat oatmeal, saying that it wasn't the same, and Angel loved it. He put the bowl into the microwave and left it to heat while he found her. The rich, sweet smell flooded the tiny kitchen.

He swung the door to the bathroom open. It bumped against something soft. His heart leapt into his throat as he pushed it open as carefully as he could.

"Kell? You okay?"

"No. Leave me alone." His girlfriend was huddled in a ball on the floor with her head by the toilet, shivering. Her long braids trailed on the floor, their cheerful decoration of yellow beads making her skin look even duller.

"What's the matter?"

"I think I have the flu."

"Oh shit."

"Yeah. Is Angel still asleep?"

"She's fine. Out like a light." He looked at her. "You look terrible."

She attempted a laugh. "Thanks. You know how to make a girl feel good."

"So why are you in the bathroom, anyway?"

"Thought I was going to throw up. Then I didn't have the energy to move. It's cool down here."

"Well that stops now. Up."

He took her wrist and helped her stand. She wrapped her arms around his neck and hung on.

"Jesus, you're burning up." He carried her to the living room and deposited her on the couch before sitting next to her. "Do we have anyone that can take Angel for the day?"

She shook her head weakly. "Not at short notice."

"Damn. I'll call in and see if I can stay home today."

"'Kay." She closed her eyes and slumped into the corner of the couch.

The office phone rang for a minute before someone answered it. Ranger's office manager sounded harassed.

"Hey Tom, it's Bobby."

"What's up?"

"Kelly's sick. Can I change my day off to today?" Bobby heard the distinctive sound of a receiver being muffled and Tom muttering something in the background.

"Tom?"

"Bobby, don't do this to me. We need everybody we can get today. Tank and Cal are out injured and Stephanie's in trouble again. Ranger's pulled out all the field staff to deal with it and I'm trying to run the office using the sales team and a trainee."

"I'm sorry, but I'm stuck. I've got nobody to take the baby."

"What about your family?"

"My nearest folks are in D.C."

"What about hers?"

"Jamaica, for Christ's sake."

"Shit. Okay, let me call you back in five minutes."

Bobby flipped the phone shut. "We have a problem. There's trouble at work and they need me in."

"What about Angel?"

"I don't know. Tom's going to call me back. Can you handle it if we have no other choice?"

Kelly went to answer, stopped and staggered to the bathroom instead.

He sighed and followed her slowly.

"A simple 'no' would have done."

"I'm sorry." Her voice sounded hollow as she hung over the toilet bowl.

He crouched down next to her. "You finished?"

"Think so."

"Can you manage something to eat?"

"Just a drink. Can you get Angel her breakfast?"

"Already started."

He raised his eyebrows at her disbelieving look. "I think I can warm up a bowl of porridge in a crisis."

"Not too hot for her."

"Not too hot, not too cold. Don't worry, I have it covered. I won't drop her either."

"Be careful."

"We'll be fine."

Tom rang back as he was on his way to Angel's bedroom. "We have a plan."

"Tell me."

"Bring the baby in. Ella will take her while you do your shift."

Bobby sighed with relief. "Thanks man, you're a lifesaver. I'm on my way."

Kelly stood shivering in a fleece blanket by the door to the apartment as he carried Angel, her arms wrapped tightly round his neck.

"Now you're just taking her to the office, right?"

"Right. Ranger's housekeeper is going to look after her."

"You're not taking her out with you to catch crazies? You promise?"

"I promise. It's okay, sweetheart. Nothing's going to happen."

"You'll keep her safe? She's never been away from me all day before."

"I know, Kell. I live here, remember? Just try to get some rest."

She looked on the point of tears. "Your job is so dangerous. I don't want our baby near that."

He put his free arm around her and pulled her into a three way hug. "It's just the office, nowhere else. If you met Ella you wouldn't be so worried. She'll be fine."

"I just…"

"I know." He pulled her close. "Now don't let her see you upset or she'll get worried too. Go back to bed and try to get some sleep."

She nodded once and stepped away from him and the door. He took Angel's hand and helped her wave goodbye to Mommy as Kelly waved back, clearly fighting tears.

When he got to the office the atmosphere was humming with tension. By the time he'd gotten Angel out of her car seat and brought her up in the elevator to the fifth floor, Ella was waiting for him. She beamed and held her arms out, waiting.

"She's pretty clingy," he warned. "Kelly likes to keep her close."

Ella took the changing bag off his shoulder and slung it over her own. "Don't worry, she'll be fine with me. I'm looking forward to it. Now you leave her to me and go and see Tom. I know something serious is going on today. Ohh, aren't you beautiful." She gently unwrapped Angel's arms from around Bobby's neck and transferred her over, settling her on her shoulder with practised ease. Bobby felt a small pang of loss, and got some measure of Kelly's pain faced with handing her daughter over for the first time. He pasted a smile on his face and waved goodbye as Angel watched him solemnly from Ella's shoulder. When they were out of sight he went to find out what kind of mess Stephanie had gotten into this time.

He found Tom in his office briefing an unfamiliar blonde man about callout procedures for the alarms. When he saw Bobby his face didn't change but his shoulders eased a little.

"Bobby, this is Hal. He started yesterday. I can cover the cameras with the sales staff but you two are it for field until this is over. I've called and cancelled all the programmed work already. We just have to hope that we don't have any callouts until they find Stephanie."

"Find?" Bobby said sharply. "She's missing?"

"Got snatched from her boyfriend's last night. We think it's connected to the Singh bond. Ranger's got every man available out on it."

"Why wasn't I called in?"

"We needed someone experienced on this shift. We can't not cover the callouts. Now I need to go. Rodriguez is bitching about having to cover the cameras already."

"So who's Stephanie?" Hal wanted to know.

"Local bounty hunter that works with the boss sometimes. She picks up the harmless ones and does some distraction work for us sometimes."

"They got something going on?"

Bobby shrugged. "Who knows? He doesn't talk about it, and nobody's stupid enough to ask, but he sure as hell spends a lot of time and money on her. I wouldn't want to be whoever took her when he catches up with them."

The first call came within the hour.

"Excellent," Bobby said. "Let's get out of here."

Hal looked confused. "I thought Tom said that calls today would be bad?"

"Maybe from his point of view. Me? I don't want to sit in the office cooling my heels while everybody else deals with a crisis. Let's hope we actually have to take someone down. What's your background, anyway?"

"Regular army, then private security since then."

"You'll be fine. Just follow my lead if there's any action."

The back door was swinging when they arrived. Bobby pulled Hal to the side. "The family has a panic room in the basement and they called from there. Consider anyone we see as a threat to be detained until the cops get here. Use whatever force necessary."

He pulled his gun and moved into the house. Hal followed him and they started checking the house room by room.

They heard voices as they crept silently down the first floor hallway. They eased into position on either side of the door to the room where the noise was coming from and listened for a few seconds.

"So where's the safe, asshole?" a gravely voice said.

"He said it was in here at the back of the closet." The second voice had a nasal whine that made Bobby want to shoot its owner on general principle.

"Well you'd better damn well find it fast. We don't want to be here too long in case someone calls the cops."

"Just shut up and let me think for a minute."

"Now you want to think? What happened to planning?"

"Relax, the husband's out of town. We can take care of a woman and a kid." Nasal's voice moved closer to the door. "I tell you, there's nothing to worry about."

"Wrong." Bobby yanked Nasal out by the collar and sucker punched him. Nasal dropped like a wet sack.

Hal moved through the empty doorway and something hit the wall, hard.

Bobby peered around the door. "Everything okay?"

"Fine," Hal answered as he cuffed the unconscious man on the floor."

"You watch Laurel and Hardy here. I'll finish checking the house."

The police arrived just as he finished sweeping the house. Bobby called the office to advise the family in the panic room.

The steel door opened with a click to show a terrified looking Asian woman clutching a toddler to her. The toddler was whimpering quietly.

Bobby had the overwhelming urge to drive back to the office and make sure that his baby was safe and happy. Instead he handed the two intruders over to the police and arranged to follow them in to the station to make a statement.

When they got back to the office it was a hive of activity. Men in RangeMan black were everywhere, talking and laughing. Lester pointed to Junior, grinning. "Dude, check out Junior. He's feeling emotional right now."

"Fuck off, Santos." Junior's eyes were red and teary. "He's lying. I took some friendly fire."

"Steph maced him." Lester was laughing openly now.

Junior grinned. "It was worth it to see her friend trussed up like a chicken and hanging from the ceiling like that."

"Oh yeah. That image'll stay with me for a long time, not to mention the way she bit into that Twinkie. Enough to give a man nightmares. And you missed it all, man!"

Bobby smiled. "Yeah, I'm sorry too. This is Hal, by the way. He did well holding the fort while you were all out having fun. Hal, this is Lester. Don't lend him money or let him hustle you at pool."

He caught sight of Ella waving from the edge of the room, his daughter hanging tightly round her neck. "And this is my baby, Angel." He took her from Ella and hoisted her up in the air to plant a kiss on her belly. "Thank you," he said to Ella. "You saved my life."

Ella beamed. "Any time. We had fun."

Angel snuggled into his neck and looked solemnly at Hal. He pulled a face, and she smiled and giggled.

Bobby pressed a kiss into the thick cloud of curls. "And now, I'm going home."

Kelly was half asleep on the couch when he got home. He deposited Angel into her lap and sat down next to her. "We're home, safe and sound."

She snuggled Angel down and leaned against Bobby. He put his arm around her and kissed the top of her head. "You okay?"

"I worried. I always worry. I worry that you won't come home one day; that your job will get you killed. I worry that one day we'll lose you."

"Never going to happen. I'm going to put some better locks on the front door, though." He leaned back and closed his eyes. "Do you ever feel like you're missing something, here at home?"

"Not yet. Why?"

"Ranger just took Trenton apart looking for Stephanie. RangeMan was just me and a trainee till he found her. She gets hit, threatened and abducted and she just keeps on going, like she needs it. I don't know why."

"I don't know, either. I just know that I don't need it. I have Angel instead. I'll go back to work one day, but not yet." She ran her fingers through Angel's puff of dark hair. "This needs braiding."

"But not yet."


	9. The School Trip

_Disclaimer: Not mine, not making any money. I'm just playing_

The School Trip

Ranger scanned the black-clad ranks of his men where they sat along the table in the largest conference room. He hated meetings. From the stone faces and the wandering eyes that he saw around the table, it was a safe bet that they all did too. Sometimes they were necessary though, for reasons like this.

"Next. We've received a complaint from Vinnie regarding excessive force in a recent apprehension."

A groan echoed round the table. "Slimy little cocksucker," someone muttered.

"Enough."

The single word brought instant quiet.

"The target was Delroy Wilkins," he went on. "Tank, you have the file. What were the charges he skipped out on?"

Tank flipped open the file. "Rape, assault, attempted murder. Ran up a bill with one of the local girls and decided to kill her so that he didn't have to pay what he owed her."

He scanned further down the page. "He's suing Vinnie for unreasonable force resulting in serious facial bruising, a bunch of missing teeth and three broken ribs."

"And who brought him in?"

"Lester and Woody."

Ignoring Bobby Brown exchanging a low five with Lester under the conference table, Ranger slowly looked around the table, meeting the eyes of each man in turn until he fixed on Lester and Woody.

They held his stare for a brief second before looking down and away.

He kept staring while he waited to make sure that everybody was paying attention to his next words.

"This goes for everybody, which is why we're doing this here and not in my office. This was sloppy work. It doesn't matter what they've done, we get paid to bring them in. That's all." He looked around the row of faces again. "So the next time someone deserves it that badly, it had better happen _by accident_. Understood?"

The men around the table nodded silently. Nothing more needed to be said.

"Lester, Woody, the company lawyer will be in my office at two o'clock this afternoon. Be ready to provide a proper account of the apprehension. Now, moving on–"

The conference room door swung open and slammed against the wall with a loud crash, cutting off his next words. Stephanie stormed into the sudden silence.

"Who did it?" she hissed. "I want to know who's responsible, right now."

The men all stared at her blankly.

"Is there a problem?" Ranger asked mildly.

"Yes, there's a problem, and your men are responsible." Fury rose around her like a heat haze. Ranger almost expected her hair to crackle and spark.

"I was called to the school today…" she continued.

That explained the black suit and the high heels that she was wearing anyway.

"… and I had to answer for my son's conduct on his school trip yesterday."

"And do you think this is the right time for this?"

"Damn straight I do." Stephanie stalked along the side of the conference room, glaring at each man in turn, much the way that he had just done. "Since they're involved. Shall I tell you what happened yesterday?"

She went on without waiting for an answer. "I'll tell you. The school took the children to an outdoor play facility for team games. You might know it. They have a small wood and a network of growing tunnels that children can play in. They put the children in teams and set them a challenge to capture each other's flags. It's a harmless team building game. At least it should be."

She walked to the head of the table, put both hands down and glared at the men seated around it. "It would be if the children didn't have skills they shouldn't have at that age. So tell me, who thought it would be a good idea to teach Alex and Robbie about combat? I really, _really_ want to know, because this is the first time the blue team ever ambushed the reds in the tunnels, overpowered them and used them as _hostages_."

Someone at the end of the table snorted and tried to turn it into a cough.

Stephanie focused a glare like a laser down the table. "Do you think this is funny? The school has had five complaints about it. The Thompson boys came home covered in mud and bruises. Jimmy Sullivan peed his pants for God's sake."

She went on in a sing-song voice. "Now, you might be wondering what the teacher was doing to maintain control while the blue team annihilated the reds and set up a prisoner of war camp in the woods. Somebody ask me."

They looked at the table, the ceiling, each other. Anywhere but at her.

She slammed a hand down on the table. "Ask me!" she shouted, the sound somehow shocking in the quiet room.

As one, their eyes swiveled to Ranger.

He fixed his eyes on Woody and nodded once.

Woody stared at the table looking nauseous. "What was the teacher doing?" he muttered.

"She was in the _bear pit_ with a sprained ankle. Oh, it may have only been eight inches deep, but it did the job."

Lester coughed and took an intense interest in the wood grain of the table.

Stephanie took a deep breath and the rest of the room held theirs.

Before she could unleash the storm, Ranger put a hand on her arm and stepped in.

"Tank, I want you to interview everybody individually and find out if anyone's been teaching the boys things they shouldn't. Report to me in forty eight hours with the results. Now, the rest of you all have jobs to do. Go and do them."

They jumped to their feet and made for the door as if the room was on fire, leaving Ranger with Tank and Stephanie.

Deprived of her primary target, she rounded on Ranger. "What the hell do you think you're doing? I want answers."

"And you'll get them, but I need some men left alive to do the work around here."

"You'll find out?"

"I promise. And when I do, I'll make sure that they regret it."

She waved an arm in the direction that the men had taken. "They can't do this. It's not okay turning my son into a commando before he even gets to High School."

"It'll stop."

"It had better." She stared at them both for a few seconds before whirling and following the men out. The heavy door clicked shut behind her, leaving the committee room in silence.

Tank and Ranger both watched the door for a long moment.

"What do you want me to do, boss?" Tank carefully didn't meet Ranger's eyes.

"Interview them all anyway," Ranger murmured, "but find the boys and tell them to keep it locked down until their mothers lose the scent. When the dust settles we'll make the next lesson about the difference between a show of strength and showing off."


	10. The Plan

_Disclaimer: Not mine, not making any money. I'm just playing. We're going round in a circle, right back to the beginning. You might want to read the first RangeKids story again_

The Plan

Three boys hunkered down and hid from the world in their tiny fort, surrounded by the smell of rotting wood and cool earth. Old leaves whispered under their bodies as they crouched down close to the ground. One looked out through a makeshift peephole in the side at the person approaching along the path through the woods.

"Shh," Robbie whispered. "My mom's coming." He took his eyes away from the chink between the two logs and the three of them pressed themselves flat to the ground and waited.

"Robbie?" Connie called as she walked slowly down the path. "Alex? Ryan?"

They stayed silent in their hideaway. The woods were absolutely silent except for the sound of walkers somewhere further away. A dog barked joyfully in the distance.

"Must have gone further," she said to the trees around her and kept walking, waddling slightly with the weight of the unborn child that she carried.

They waited until she was out of earshot before moving.

Ryan got up and placed his eye to a hole on the other side of the fort. "She's gone."

"It works," Alex said sitting up too. "Excellent. Now what?"

"We could do a great ambush from here," Ryan said. "Nobody would see us until it was way too late. It would be just like in the movies."

Robbie looked doubtful. "I don't know. We'd get into big trouble. And who would we ambush? My mom? She'd be really mad."

"Nah, she's too easy. She can't run. We can't waste a fort like this on your mom. Anyway, she's having a baby; we can't shoot somebody who's having a baby."

Alex flicked a beetle off its perch on one of the logs to land on the forest floor outside the fort. "We can't shoot anybody. All we can do is pretend."

"Who says?" Ryan challenged.

"Me." Alex made a show of looking Ryan up and down. "I don't see you carrying a gun, even a pretend one."

"Your dad has a building full of guns."

"All locked up. I've never even seen one."

"My mom says even pretend guns are dangerous," Robbie said. "She said someone might not know it's pretend and shoot you back for real."

"What do she know?" Ryan said scornfully. "She's just a girl. Girls don't know anything about guns or fighting."

Alex and Robbie just looked at him and said nothing.

"Anyway, I have an idea," Ryan went on. "My Dad told me that they practice using paintball guns sometimes. They go out to the woods and have fights and stuff. What if we could find the guns and hide some here? We could do a real ambush."

"Right," Alex said sceptically. "We just ask someone where the paintball guns are kept and borrow some so that we can do an ambush. Nobody's going to let us do that. That's dumb."

Robbie nodded.

"Come on, it'd be an adventure. We could find out on our own, I bet you. And I bet someone would teach us to pick locks too if we gave them a reason."

"Like what?" Alex asked.

"You're the youngest. What if you said someone was bullying you and kept shutting you in the store cupboard at school?"

"They'd just tell my dad. Then he'd go to the school or try to find out who it was and it would be really, really bad. I'm not doing that."

"No, 'cause you tell them you don't want your dad to scare anybody and you want to deal with it yourself. They'd believe that."

"They'd have to be really dumb," Alex said doubtfully.

"I bet you Cal would believe it."

Alex was silent for a moment. "So what if we could pick locks? We still don't know where the guns are."

"The basement," Robbie said.

Alex and Ryan both stared at him. "What?" Alex asked.

"I bet they're in the basement store. There's all sorts of stuff in there that they don't use very often."

"Well that's no good then," Alex said. "There's cameras everywhere down there."

Ryan shook his head. "Jeez, you got no imagination. Distraction, dummy. We distract them with something, make up a security alert that takes them away from the cameras. Everybody knows about distractions."

"How do you know all this stuff," Robbie asked.

Ryan grinned. "The movies and LJ. He tells me lots of stuff when I see him."

"My mom says that LJ is the spawn of satan. She said it to my dad once when she didn't know I was there."

"My brother just knows how to have fun. And my brother showed my his cherry bombs last week. He's got five of them hidden at the back of his closet. If we set off one of those, nobody's going to care about the basement cameras for a few minutes. Now are we going to do this or what?"

"Hold on," Alex said. "Even if it worked, who do we ambush?"

Ryan grinned. "Uncle Tank."

Alex and Robbie stared at him, wide-eyed.

"Uncle Tank?" Robbie whispered. "He's _huge_. We couldn't do that, could we? Take Uncle Tank down?"

"Why not? I dare you," Ryan said. "Don't you want to be tough? You aren't chicken, are you? I guess you're just too little to do anything like that."

Alex stood up and brushed the leaf mold off his jeans. "Wrong. We're going to do this. And it's going to be good."


	11. Solutions

_Disclaimer: Not mine, not making any money. I'm just playing_

_Sigh. I was so determined that I was done with RangeKids. It appears that I am doomed to write kiddiefic until the end of time._

Solutions

Ranger waited in his office for the tentative knock that always heralded the start of these conversations. If someone had asked him ten years ago whether he felt out of control he would have laughed in their faces. If he had ever been proud of anything it was his control. Control of himself, control of his surroundings, control of other people. Which was probably why fate was laughing her ass off at him right now.

The knock came, so quiet that it was obvious that the person doing the knocking would prefer not to be doing it, would rather be doing something else completely. He took a deep breath and put his impassive face on, the one that had served him so well for so many years. You name it, it had faced it down. Enemy soldiers, crime lords, gun wielding maniacs, the list went on.

"In."

Alex shuffled in and sat down in the chair on the other side of the table, carefully not meeting his father's eyes.

It turned out that Ranger's years of stone-faced control in the face of danger were just preparation for the hardest task of all: keeping his cool around one twelve year old boy. Karma really was a bitch.

He pulled out a sheet of hand written notes from under the telephone on his desk. "Let's start with the damage, shall we?"

He read down the sheet, starting from the top. "Missing teeth: two. Sprained wrists: one. Bloody noses: two. Assorted bruises: four. Complaints to the school: Five. Possibly your worst rap sheet to date. So what do you have to say for yourself?"

"It wasn't my fault."

He restrained a sigh. How many times had he heard that one before? The boy was his mother's son in more ways than one.

"Explain."

"I wasn't fighting, I promise."

"You'll have to do better than that."

Alex looked wounded. "Well, you're always telling me not to be a victim."

"Knocking two of your schoolmates' teeth out is not what I had in mind."

Something flashed across Alex's face that made him look older and harder than his years. "You didn't let me finish."

Ranger nodded. "Go on."

Alex stared him down for a moment before looking away and carrying on. "Some of the kids at school don't like me. They try to pick on me like the other younger kids and I won't let them. Every now and then they try to take me 'cause I'm bad for their reputation."

"You never told me or your mother any of this."

Alex shrugged. "You didn't need to; it was under control. Anyway, one of them tried again a couple of days ago. He cornered me by the water fountain, called me some stuff and tried to duck me in the water. I dealt with it. The teachers never found out.

"Today though, he brought back-up with him, four more of them. They cornered me in the bathrooms."

"Couldn't you call a teacher?"

Alex snorted. "No. That would have made it worse. You can't afford to look weak."

Ranger privately agreed with him, and that was usually the problem with disciplining him. The boy was developing his own moral code, and just like his own, it didn't always respect the rules at the time.

"Anyway, Uncle Hal says you can't hide from your problems; the best way out is always through. So that's what I did. I went through."

"Are you seriously telling me that you took on five older children single-handed? That's how you account for this injury list?"

Alex shrugged again. "I normally try not to hurt them too badly in case I draw attention to myself, but with five of them I couldn't afford to worry too much about the damage list."

Not for the first time, Ranger wondered if this was what Doctor Frankenstein felt like.


End file.
